The Girl That Time Hated
by WesterosBaby
Summary: Removed from society because of a wrong accusation, Billie Soler thought her life was over. But when a decision was made to throw her in with troops from across the pond, everything began to change. A new environment meant a new beginning, and fitting in with easy wasn't too hard. But a particular dark haired Lt. made it hard for her to focus properly.
1. New Beginnings, New People

I remember looking out the back of the prison van as it drove through the gates of Her Majesty's Prison New Hall in London. The last time I thought I'd see the outside world as the rusting iron gates swung shut behind me, the metal mesh on the window obscuring my view of the clouded daytime sky. I remember feeling the bite of the handcuffs as they cut into my wrists, the uncomfortable metal seat and the stern glare of the prison guard sitting opposite me. Driving under the old Victorian archway, I remember feeling absolutely nothing - no remorse, no care, and no guilt. Because I didn't commit the crime they said I did. But the word of a tattooed, troubled 18 year old was absolutely worthless to the government of 1942. They just needed to put someone away to put the minds of the community at rest during these turbulent times. Sure, I'd committed crimes - theft, assault, vandalism - but murder? That was laughable. Because the apparent nature of my arrest was that I, a young girl, who weighed no more than 10 stone had murdered 4 grown men using just a pocket knife. I'd been near the scene at the time, coming home from the pub, and was immediately apprehended, tried days later and sentenced within 30 minutes. People like me didn't have friends to back you up, because the people you knew were the ones the police were trying to catch. The only people I'd ever known were criminals. Including my family, but that's for another time. My face had been plastered around town with the words 'CRIMINAL CAUGHT' written underneath in dark, bold, ominous letters. The whole country knew. Why? That's a question for the PR department of the justice system. My name is Billie Soler, and my life had just come to an end. Or so I thought.

* * *

My third day in prison was to be my last. Not that I cared much. I kept to myself, not paying much attention to anyone. The closest encounter I'd had was when I'd been placed on library duty, resulting in a fight and the end of my job. No one else around me gave me much notice, except to maybe try and find out about my crime. I'd settled down to read a book in my cell when the guard came to take me.

"Soler, let's go. Warden North wants to see you in his office." He was a good looking guy to be working in a prison, but he had his flaws - any man working a job like this and not helping the war effort meant he had a health defect of some kind. "Soler, get up, and move." I'd kinda just stayed reading my book, not bothering too much to move.

"What's it even about?" I sighed. Since no one would listen to me about my innocence, I decided life couldn't get much worse.

"I don't know, it's the Warden's business. Now move," he said, grabbing my arm in a vice like grip and dragging me off my bunk.

"Ok, ok, jesus," I retorted, but he held my arm the whole way there, and by the time we got to the office, I couldn't even feel my fingers. He let go when he knocked on the door, and I glared at him, wanting nothing more than to smack him one straight in the mouth, but in my short time here, I'd seen what happened to those that hit officers.

"Enter," a voice replied from behind the metal door, it's faded blue paint peeling and leaving flecks on the floor. The officer shoved me through the door, and I almost growled lowly at the back of my throat. "Ah, Billie Soler. Thank you, Staines," the warden dismissed the guard, who nodded before shutting the door behind him. "Mrs Soler, take a seat." He pointed at the empty chair in front of his large, wooden desk, covered in files and paperwork, a typewriter being the centrepiece. As I sat down, I studied him. He was a middle aged man, his once dark hair becoming grey around the edges. He looked to have been muscular during his younger years, his broad shoulders covered by a grey suit jacket. "There's no simple way to say this, but the country hates you. The deaths of 4 young, healthy men, who were heavily involved in the war effort slain for no apparent reason. The suspect - a delinquent known by local forces for her mischievous streak, the streak having got her in much trouble before." He took a pause, studying my face. "But look kid, I know you didn't do it. I mean, you might be a dab hand at fighting, but murder? I don't think that fits your persona." I was taken aback at the words he just said. I took a breath in, not sure where this conversation was going.

"So if you know I didn't do it, why aren't you out there searching for the real guy?" I protested, though half heartedly, because I already knew his response.

"Because the public can't have knowledge that their justice system is wrong. Not in these times. And the penalty for murder is death. You know that?" I nodded. My date of death was set for 3 weeks from now - death by hanging. The thing is, I didn't even care. Nobody valued me, nobody cared for me, so why would it even matter when I was dead anyway? "But I can't let that death be on my hands. A young, healthy, innocent 18 year old girl. A girl who was really faced with this life since birth. Your family, what happened with them?" I hated questions like this.

"They, er, they died. My mum and dad were killed in the Blitz. My brother hasn't returned home since he left when he was 16." My deadpan expression must have looked odd when talking about such a subject, but I was used to telling the story.

"Your father was arrested multiple times throughout his life, and even met your mother at a mixed inmate prison. Is that correct?" he asked, raising his eyes up from my file. I nodded, no expression on my face. "Your brother was last seen by you when you were 14, and has spent time in and out of jail for petty crime. Now, if you ask me, a life like that is no place for a young girl. It leads to trouble, and trouble leads you here. Now, as I said earlier, I don't want your death on my hands. So I'm going to leave it to the Germans."

"What?" I wasn't sure if I'd just heard what I thought I'd heard.

"The Americans are short on medics. And no one in this country will take you. So, as soon as you get back to your cell, pack your minimal belongings. You're leaving today, on an troop plane to a small camp in Georgia." I still wasn't registering what was happening.

"But, I'm a female. They don't accept females. I mean, I am female, right?" My head was spinning. I focussed on the mug on his desk, trying to remain composed.

"We made a case for you. The Americans are more liberal with this sort of thing. It's all going to be very quiet. As far as England is concerned, you will still be hung on your death date. Now, off you go." He dismissed me, flicking his hand at the door and going back to reading an article like what he'd just told me was a normal everyday occurrence. I got up, almost in a trance like state, feeling like I was floating to the door. It opened before I got there, and the guard from before, Staines, stood in front of me.

"Let's go, Soler," he said. _Are they the only words in his dictionary?_ I thought to myself. He let me walk myself this time, no more dead arms. As I gathered my small amount of belongings from my cell, I had only one thought drifting through my mind. I was going to war.

* * *

I slept for most of the plane journey over. I had the hard bench to thank for my stiff neck this morning as I rode in the jeep to Camp Toccoa, my new home. I still wasn't sure how the warden could get away with a female in the American army, but he apparently worked miracles. There was a growing amount of troops, meaning we were nearing the base. The jeep driver was a smallish man, his uniform telling me his name was Evans, his markings showing he was a sergeant.

"So, how long have you been in the army, Sgt. Evans?" I asked in a polite manner, though not false. He didn't answer, just kept his hands on the wheel. "Ok, then, forget I asked," I muttered under my breath. We reached a barrier in the road, to which a couple of soldiers lifted up and waved us through. My breath caught in my throat when I saw how big the camp was, the amount of men milling around. Some appeared to be on free time, others were being drilled, and some were doing PT. Sgt. Evans stopped the jeep, jumping out.

"Colonel Sink would like to see you, but first he told me to help take your things to the barracks," he said in a robotic tone, like he didn't want to be talking to me.

"Oh, er, ok."

"Follow me," he said, not bothering to help me carry my stuff. I grabbed it out the back of the jeep, trying to keep pace with Evans. He stopped outside a hut where a group of men waited in formation, before approaching the shouting man at the front. He looked angry, like he was permanently chewing wasps. A hushed conversation later, he glared at me, like I was no more than scum on the floor.

"You, come here. Bring your stuff." I wasn't one to be shy, but a whole company of men stood before me, and I felt the heat of all their eyes as a young female, tattoos and all walked for what seemed like an eternity to the front of the group. "You're the criminal, the murderer -"

"I never killed anyone. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time," I argued, feeling heat creeping into my pale cheeks.

"You do not talk back to a ranking officer!" he yelled in my face. "And you will address me as Lt. Sobel. What I have been told is that _you_ killed four men in cold blood, no motive, not guilt. You were caught, sentenced to death by hanging and then sent here, for what reason I don't know. You are not worth my time, but if Colonel Sink thinks you have a case, I can do nothing but follow his orders." I sighed in defeat.

"Yes, Lt. Sobel."

"Now, let me check your bag. Can't have a _murderer_ armed on the base." I reluctantly handed him my bag, my cheeks now probably a dark shade of red. And when he upended my rucksack and tipped everything on the floor, I could have died. I didn't have much, but what I did have tumbled to the floor. "Pick it up," he ordered, and I'd never felt more humiliated in my whole life. I bent down, and a boot stomped on top of my hand as I went to pick up my book. "You will never make it through here," he said, and I felt a trickle of blood drip from my hand onto the floor as he pressed harder still. I hated this man and I'd only met him for five minutes, The pain in my hand intensified, but determination told me to grit my teeth and bare it. He released his foot, instead now talking to his company. I continued to pick up my stuff, and the only picture I had of my family all together lay smashed and broken on the floor. Out of nowhere, a sense of extreme loneliness washed over me, like a bottle being thrashed around by the sea. As I picked up the picture and put it in my bag, I could only think of how much worse my life would be now I was going to be kept alive. "You have until 1900 hours, Easy Company. Fall out," the voice of the devil sounded. He wasn't a nice looking man, though he wasn't especially ugly. I hadn't got much of a look at any of the other men, except for a good looking ginger man at the front of the men, who I assumed was of rank. His green eyes were focussed on the field further ahead, like he was trying to forget the fact Lt. Sobel existed. At his command, the men dispersed, and I felt myself growing smaller and smaller as I heard their whispers and hushed conversation.

"Excuse me?" A soldier crouched down next to me, a kind expression on his face. "I'm Sgt. Carwood Lipton. You're Billie Soler, right?" he smiled.

"Uh, yeah," I nodded, accepting his handshake. I mean, he seemed nice enough, but I'd had people being something other than what they portrayed themselves as before.

"We've heard all about you, your story. Colonel Sink enlightened us about your situation. It's not a good place to be," he said, almost sadly.

"You're telling me," I said, looking at the ground. I did the zip back up on my bag, fumbling in my embarrassed state.

"You know, a lot of us don't believe you're a murderer. Sink told us what the warden in your prison said, about you not being guilty, but having to keep public morale up?" I smiled at him, nodding. "You should probably get the hand looked at. Here, let me take your bag," he offered, picking up my rucksack.

"Thanks." We walked towards the hut, and inside I could see rows of cots on either side. I glanced down at my injured hand, the blood crusting over the wound. "I think my hand will hold until a bit later," I shrugged.

"These are the men of Easy Company. They'll make you feel welcome, and if they don't, I'll deal with them. Just because your a girl, it doesn't mean they can disrespect you," he said, handing me back my bag, before walking towards the ginger man. Lipton was a good looking man, a nice smile and a good pair of eyes. Not to mention a complete gentleman. It made a change from what I was used to. Glancing back round to the hut, the men inside were either laying on the bunk, or talking in small groups. I took a deep breathe before I walked into the wooden hut, it's plain nature highlighting the fact that this was the army. I stepped inside, and every pair of eyes flicked to me. I could once again feel the colour creeping into my cheeks, the breathe hitching in my throat as I tried to search for an empty bunk whilst keeping my head down. I'd never regretted my tattoos before, but the inkings that covered most of my arms suddenly became an inescapable beacon for all to see.

"Hey, quit staring," a voice whispered in one of the groups. A couple of the men resumed their individual conversations, whilst a few remained looking at me. I noticed someone moving towards me from the corner of my eye, and immediately wanted to disappear from sight.

"I'm George Luz," he said simply, extending a hand, which I took. He was very handsome, his chocolate brown eyes hinting at mischief, his cheeky smile making me feel a little better.

"Billie Soler," I nodded.

"There's an empty bunk next to mine, if you want?" he asked, still with that same smile.

"Sure, thanks," I smiled, though not genuinely because I was still pretty overwhelmed by the whole situation.

"Luz, I thought you said we didn't wanna scare her off," someone laughed.

"Can it, Gonorrhoea," George retorted in a joking way. "I'm just trying to make her feel welcome," he said practically to the whole hut, making me cringe internally. I wanted nothing less than to remain anonymous, but that apparently wasn't happening. I put my stuff on the bunk, and glanced around. Most of the men had returned to their activities, leaving me and Luz standing next to the cot. "We haven't heard a lot about you, only what Sink told the officers who then told us," he shrugged.

"Well, whatever you heard, I'm telling you now, I'm not a murderer," I said, maybe too sharply, because he immediately backed up and raised his hands.

"Hell, we don't think you are. We don't know you, but you're kinda small for the crime they said you committed. No offence," he said, offering me a small smile. "Come meet some of the guys?" he asked. I looked over at the group he was talking about. They were a mixed bag; a short tanned guy, a taller guy, a stocky guy, a huge guy - they all looked like they came from completely different backgrounds. I shrugged, having nothing better to do, and I'd be with these men for a long time; might as well get to know them. "So this hunk of a guy is Denver Randleman, but we call him Bull," he pointed to the biggest man.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he said in a thick accent.

"Ok, so before I meet you all, my name is Billie Soler, and christ, please don't call me ma'am," I almost laughed, making Bull smile.

"Isn't Billie a guys name?" the taller one said. I raised an eyebrow.

"It's spelt with an 'ie' instead of a 'y', making it a girl's name," I said like it was obvious.

"Nice going, Joe. Piss her off without her even knowing your name," Luz laughed.

"Joe Liebgott," he nodded with a small smile.

* * *

After a while. I'd got to know the names of some of the men. Most of them seemed nice enough, but I was never sure. I hadn't told them much about myself, except my name, and now I was standing outside smoking. I watched as the smoke I exhaled twisted and writhed in the air like it was alive, trying to escape the heat and humidity of Georgia. Looking around, it was a simple place; barracks, an obstacle course and a medical hut were it's main features, the only colours being brown and green. I inhaled on my cigarette, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement approaching me. I looked over to see the dark haired man I'd seen earlier standing at the front of Easy's parade coming over to me.

"How you settling in?" he asked as he got within speaking distance.

"Fine, I guess," I shrugged.

"I'm Lt. Lewis Nixon," he said, holding out his hand. _Fuck, how many more hands do I have to shake._ "Must be hard coming from a completely different country," he said, lighting up his own cigarette.

"Not when they all hate you." He smirked as he exhaled.

"Yeah, that kinda blows, huh?" he asked, as I raised an eyebrow. "Colonel Sink says he'd like to see you. Between you and me, you're gonna be under the watch of a Lt. from a different company. Word is he's quite the taskmaster, but you'll still be with Easy. Guess it's a security matter," he said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks for the heads up," I said. "Which way is his office, sir?" I asked as I began to walk off then realised I had no idea where I was going.

"I'll walk you there," he offered. "So, what part of England did you grow up in?" he asked, exhaling a plume of smoke.

"South east London," I replied, not wanting to give too much away.

"I guess America's a big change then."

"Yeah, just a little," I smiled. We stayed quiet for most of the way to Sink's office, neither wanting to delve too much into conversation.

"Here we are," Nixon said, stopping at a more official looking hut. "Good luck, kiddo," he winked.

"Thank you, sir," I said, suddenly nervous. I stepped inside, feeling my palms go clammy. To my right were two doors, and the one at the furthest end was marked 'COLONEL SINK' in big, bold letters. I knocked on the black door, seeing a slight movement through the frosted glass centre.

"Enter," a voice sounded, reminding me a lot of the prison office. I opened the door, walking into a small office, paperwork stacked methodically around. It was like a neat confusion. "Ah, Soler. Take a seat," the man behind the desk said, pointing at the single chair. I sat down, glancing out the window at the passing soldiers. "I hope your journey here was uneventful. Now, Warden North enlightened me on your situation. It's a hard place to be, and for such a young girl. It took a lot for him to persuade us to accept you, what with your previous records and all, but at the end of the day, why waste such a youthful presence that could be doing good for herself and get out of the rut she finds herself in. I believe letting you hang would have weighed heavy on many parts. I guess that the happiness of the public was the most important element of that equation, even with the laughable lack of evidence. Due to the fact that you have previous records that we can't overlook, you are still somewhat of a liability. Now, that means I'm going to be assigning an officer from Dog Company to be your supervisor." Sink was a stern man, stern but fair. He was an older man, his hair grey, as was his moustache.

"I understand the need for that sir, but why from a different company?" I wondered. Since I'd gotten settled for the past couple of hours, I'd found my voice again. Now that Sobel wasn't around to throw insults down my throat.

"The men in your own company, those are the ones you will forge an unforgettable bond with. Those men will be the men next to your through death and injury, through the darkest days of your lives. Those men will grow attached to yourself and one another in a way you can't imagine. And that would mean that they won't supervise you properly. They'd be more concerned about forming a friendship than a leadership. What I need is someone who can discipline you if need be. Now, you'll have to report to Lt. Speirs of Dog Company at the beginning and end of everyday for three weeks. Any issues, you report to him. Now, he will have your uniform for you. Stick to the rules, you'll fit in fine, Soler," he nodded in dismissal. I got up from the chair and saluted him before I left the office, bumping into the ginger man with the cool green eyes on my way out.

"Ah, Soler. We didn't get to meet properly yet. I'm Lt. Richard Winters. It's a pleasure to meet you," he smiled, his voice soft. He seemed much too kind to be doing a job of this sort.

"It's good to finally meet. You wouldn't happen to know where Dog Company is would you, sir? It's my next port of call," I smiled.

"Just keep left on the path and it'll be signposted. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to Colonel Sink," he said politely. I saluted him now that I was technically a soldier, a salute he returned, before we went our separate ways. I stepped out the hut, turning left and saw a familiar face walking towards me. It was Joe Toye, one of the men I'd met earlier.

"Hey, Billie. You heading back to the men?" he asked, a smile on his face. He was a good looking guy, the rough type.

"Nope. I'm on my way to get my uniform off of my goddamm supervisor," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"You serious?" he asked as I nodded. "Jesus, they really are cracking down. I'm off to go do some trading with the knuckleheads in Able. I'll try bring you something back," he winked.

"Good luck," I laughed as I started back my path towards Dog. Sure enough, within a few minutes, I found a wooden hut signposted 'Dog Company'. As I went to step inside, two soldiers blocked the entrance. "Can I get in please?" I asked in a polite manner. I had a rude side to me that I didn't exactly want to unveil within the first day, let alone heading into unknown territory.

"Why would we let a girl who killed four soldiers into our hut?" the taller one sneered.

"Leave it out, Jones," a voice shouted from behind them.

"Can it, Smitty," Jones retorted, earning just a mumbled whatever. I didn't expect anyone to come to my defence, being that there was still an air of uncertainty circling around my head. "Now, what were you saying?"

"I was about to say that I haven't killed anyone. Do I look like a murderer to you?" I replied, feeling that familiar heat of humiliation crawling back into my cheeks.

"Those tattoos don't exactly make you look like the type of girl I'd take home to see my mother," the shorter one laughed. But in a cruel way.

"So what? Doesn't make me what you think I am," I said. "Can you please just let me into the hut?" I pleaded, not wanting to cause trouble. I went to walk through the middle of them, but instead got shoved back onto the path. "Hey!" I protested, but in vein. "Dude, quit being a jerk-" I was silenced when what felt like a hammer slammed into the side of my face, knocking me to the floor almost instantly. I felt my cheek split on impact, backed up by the amount of blood now dripping into the dusty earth. The shorter one grabbed me by the collar, thrusting me up against the wall, which wasn't hard considering my light frame. I coughed the air from my lungs, my breathing ragged from the sudden impact.

"You ain't going nowhere," he snarled, before Jones landed a punch straight to my gut, knocking the wind out of me and causing me to grit my teeth in pain. Just as he was about to throw another punch, he was pulled backwards. The one holding me immediately let go, and I dropped to the floor like an empty sack, winded and bloody.

"Both of you report to Colonel Sink's office, and I will be dealing with you once I've seen to our new arrival. Go!" a voice sounded. He didn't need to raise his voice to sound menacing, a chill finding it's way down my spine with the venom laced within his words. I lay in the dirt, wanting nothing more than to die, before feeling a hand lift my face under my chin. And I found myself looking back at possibly the most beautiful human being I'd ever laid my eyes upon. His own hazel eyes bore into mine, a cold detached look inside of them.

"On your feet, soldier," he said, removing his hand and waiting for me to stumble back onto my feet. Once I'd dusted myself down and managed to get my breathing regulated, I noticed his name was Speirs. _Oh, shit._

"Apologies, sir, I only tried to get into the hut to find you, sir," I saluted, wincing in pain as a bolt shot through my side where I'd been punched.

"I have an idea of what happened. Come inside, let me give you your uniform before I take you to the medical hut to inform you of your duties and get your injuries sorted out.," he stepped inside the hut, where a much smaller office hid in the corner. It was barely big enough for us both to fit in it, just a single desk stood in the middle of it. I studied him as we walked. He seemed much like the taskmaster Nixon had described him as. His face showed hardly any emotion, though he was positively the single best looking person I'd ever seen throughout my whole life. Something about his persona added to the air of underlying mystery, his features almost inhumanly perfect. And his eyes were cold and uncaring, yet drew me in. He walked over to his desk, handing me a bundle of clothes. "This is your dress greens, your OD's and your PT gear," he said, snapping me out of my uncharacteristic trance. He spent a moment looking at my arms, raising an eyebrow, making me fell exposed. I pulled the bundle closer, trying to cover my arms.

"Thank you, sir," I said, looking at the ground. I could feel him looking at my face for a second before speaking.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, not exactly out of concern.

"Lt. Sobel stood on it, sir," I winced, not wanting to seem like a snitch, even on someone like Sobel. Speirs' expression changed almost unnoticeably.

"I'll ensure it doesn't happen again," he said. "Now, I'll explain what I expect from you on the way over to the medical hut."

 **Speirs' P.O.V**

Glancing over at her as she walked, I could see she was in pain. A slight limp on her right leg, and a struggle to breathe highlighted there'd been significant damage done. Pvt's Jones and Sterling would be out of my company by the end of the day. She'd had it hard enough, having a whole country hate her for a crime she obviously didn't commit. It was clear that looking at her, she was no murderer. Sure, I could see the damage on her knuckles from years of fighting, and she had an air about her that might make some question her motives, but murderer? No, that was painstakingly clear. She was rather a pretty girl. Her blue eyes had an iciness to them, not intentionally, but their almost grey complexion made her appear nonchalant about a lot of things. She was quite pale, but her tattoos added the colour, although probably not what many would approve of on a woman this young. She had fairly long, brunette hair, slightly messy from her days events. Several scars dotted themselves around from a life of insecurity. I felt she had underlying issues, but wasn't exactly an open person. I neither liked her or disliked her; I'd only known her 2 minutes.

"So, Soler. You are going to be a combat medic with Easy Company. You will train with them, eat with them, shoot with them and suffer with them. Lt. Sobel is to be in charge of you whilst you are with them, though I can give you orders if I feel necessary. For the next three weeks, you are to report to me at sunrise and at sundown. Sink needs to ensure your seriousness about this issue," I said, highlighting the jobs she'd be undertaking.

"Yes, sir," she replied, nodding her head. The split on her cheek would need stitches. I took out a cigarette, offering her one, which she accepted with a small smile. She had a nice smile, almost cheeky, and definitely mischievous. "Do you have a light, sir?" she asked, patting herself down and figuring she'd lost it somewhere. I passed her my metal lighter, nodding when she handed it back.

"Any questions, Soler?" I asked, glancing down at her. She was an average height, maybe just above.

"Not that I can think of yet, sir, but I'm sure I'll have some by this evening," she said, raising an eyebrow and inhaling on her cigarette. We stopped when we got to the hut, the big red cross on top indicating it was the medical barracks.

"I'll leave you to it, Soler. Any issues, you know where to find me. See you this evening," I nodded before beginning to walk off. "Oh, and one more thing," I said, turning around. "Try not to piss of Sobel," I said.

"Would I ever, sir?" she smiled coyly, the light in her eye betraying her thoughts. I raised a small smile, deciding that having known her now for longer than 2 minutes, I think we'd get on just fine. As she exhaled a plume of smoke from her cigarette, something inside my mind registered that she held a charm I'd never seen in a girl before, and I shook that something from my thoughts, not wanting it to play on my mind.

"Behave yourself, Soler," I said before finally walking off.

 **Billie's P.O.V**

I finished my cigarette outside the medical hut, thinking about Speirs. He was a hard one to pin down. He seemed to have no emotion, yet at the same time understood me. I shook my head, sighing before flicking the end of my cigarette away and stepping inside. It wasn't a big place, but it was clean and tidy. Beds lined the walls on either side,each one with a railing and curtain surrounding it. A table stood by each bed, and at the entrance stood a large desk, compartmented into different sections; needles, thread, bandages, syringes; everything had it's place. A couple of nurses milled about, chatting with each other, and they hadn't quite noticed me walk in. I cleared my throat, and they both looked round. One of them smiled, coming towards me.

"Hey, my name's Betty," she smiled warmly. She was very pretty, her blonde hair put in victory rolls, the lack of makeup on her face not making her any less stunning. She took my bundle of clothes from me, laying them on the nearest bed, before pulling me into a hug. It slightly shocked me, but I returned it not wanting to seem rude. "You know, a lot of girls spoke about you before you got here, and I told them that we couldn't judge you without even knowing you," she smiled, releasing the embrace. "Personally, I think you're very brave, not to mention pretty," she said.

"Erm, well, thank you. It's nice to meet you," I replied, smiling back. I decided I liked Betty. The other girl still stood at the end of the hut, not making an effort. "What's her name?" I asked.

"That's Dorothy. She's kinda shy, but lovely when you get to know her," Betty shrugged with a small smile. "Here, come meet her," she said, pulling on my hand. "Dorothy, this is Billie." I guessed they must have heard my name from the officers.

"Hey," she said shyly, looking at the floor.

"You've probably heard stories, but I'm actually a nice person. Promise," I smiled.

"Oh, no doubt about that. Now honey, let's take a look at that face. And hand," Betty said, leading me over to a bed and sitting me down. "What happened?" she asked as she hurried around gathering antiseptic, stitches and small plaster strips on a metal tray.

"Some of the guys in Dog Company didn't appreciate my presence," I shrugged.

"Damn them," she said, before covering her mouth. "Sorry for the language," she smiled.

"Betty, if I apologised for everytime I used a curse word, I'd never be able to talk about anything else," I laughed, making her giggle.

"Now, let's clean this up," she said, pushing my hair away from my cheek to clean the cut. I took a sharp intake of breathe as she administered the cleanser, but relaxed a little once the first couple of stitches had gone through. After a couple of minutes, she was done, and started checking over my hand. "Was this them too?" she asked, her eyebrows knitted together in annoyance.

"That one was Lt. Sobel," I said, shaking my head.

"A few of the Easy guys have been in here after he's pushed them too hard," she sighed. "So, you're gonna be with them?" she asked as she began to clean my hand.

"Yeah. They seem nice enough. But I have to report to Lt. Speirs from Dog," I said, and she looked up at me, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Ohh, the saucy, suave yet detached Lt," she laughed, making me laugh.

"That's the one," I said, smiling.

"What part of England are you from then?" she asked as she applied small white strips to the back of my hand.

"A place in south east London, called Lewisham. It's ok, but there's a lot of gang related violence. I've had a few run ins, nothing too bad though," I smiled.

"Your life sounds pretty interesting," she said, not looking up from my hand.

"You could call it that. Where are you from?" I asked, wanting to know more about her.

"Nebraska," she said, smiling, like she was thinking of home.

"What's it like there?" I asked.

"Hot in summer, cold in winter," she smiled. "And tornadoes, a lot of tornadoes," she said. "I come from a family of three brothers, so working round all these guys isn't a problem," she said, making me smile. "There we go," she said, showing me my hand. At that moment, a soldier walked into the hut carrying a medical bag. "Hey, Gene," Betty smiled, her cheeks tinting slightly. "I'm just finishing fixing up Billie," she said, walking over to him and waving me over.

"Good. I need to talk to her. She's gonna be a medic," Gene said to Betty.

"You never told me!" she beamed, as I shrugged smiling. "That means we get to spend time together," she smiled. It made me happy, knowing that at least one person was genuinely happy to have me around. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to it. See you later, Gene," she said. "Billie, you should pop over to the nurses barracks when your done. You can meet the other girls," she smiled.

"Sounds like a plan, Betty," I smiled. "Catch you later," I waved as she left the hut. I glanced around, looking for Dorothy, but she must have left without me noticing. "So, your Easy's medic?" I asked.

"That I am," he replied in a thick accent. "Name's Eugene Roe, but the guys call me Doc or Gene," he said, offering his hand.

"Well, you already know my name, but it's nice to meet you," I said, shaking his hand. "Where are you from?" I asked.

"Louisiana," he smiled. "You from London?" he asked.

"Yeah, south east born and raised," I smiled. He had kind eyes, and seemed shyer than the rest of the men. I liked that. He didn't feel he had to be brash to fit in.

"So, I gotta tell you. You're medical training starts tomorrow. Unfortunately for us medics, they can't find a time to train us without taking us out of other training, so it has to be in our free time. It's only a couple of hours a day, followed by a lot of reading, but you'll be okay," he smiled.

"Sure, sounds better than what I used to do with my free time," I said. "Which wasn't murder, by the way," I hurriedly added, making him laugh.

"I don't believe you did it, mon cherie. What Sobel did was out of line, even for him," he said, becoming serious. His dark eyebrows creased, making him look like a puppy. "Anyway, I gotta head back to the guys. We got formation at 1900 hrs, final parade before we do whatever Sobel makes us suffer through. I'll catch you later," he smiled, giving me a nod.

"Yeah. See you later, Gene," I smiled as he left. I thought it odd he didn't ask what happened to my face, but figured he didn't want to be rude. I stepped out of the hut, figuring out what to do with myself. I glanced at the wristwatch I was wearing. I had three hours before I had to be anywhere particular, so decided to head and find Betty. I liked her, she had a nice way about her. Now I just had to find the nurses barracks.


	2. Adding Insult To Injury

After searching around for a bit and receiving some odd glances from some different soldiers, I eventually found the nurses hut. I was a little apprehensive about walking inside, but decided Betty wouldn't lead me into a hut full of bitches. I stepped inside, and could hear conversation coming from a room to the right. I moved on a little further, this hut being much like the others in the fact that it was very bare, but this one smelt more of perfume and hairspray. I knocked on the open door, not wanting to barge into a conversation, and had 4 pairs of eyes stare back at me. Betty jumped up, coming over to give me a hug, which I returned, smiling at her friendliness.

"Hey! I'm so glad you could make it!" she laughed. She was possibly the sweetest person I'd ever met, and I'd known her no longer than few hours, but she seemed genuinely pleased that I'd come to see her. "Come meet the girls," she said, once again grabbing my hand and pulling me over to where the other girls were sat. "So, you met Dorothy earlier," she said, motioning towards the smallest girl. I hadn't really payed too much mind to her earlier. She was pretty, but in a different way to Betty. She had short brown hair in a small bun, a rouge tint on her lips.

"Hey, Dorothy," I smiled, which she returned.

"And this is Kathy," Betty said, motioning to the girl with the glasses.

"Pleasure to meet you, doll," she said in a thick southern accent. She had a nice smile, her brown hair tied into a ponytail.

"And finally, Addie." She had dark hair and pale skin, a lot like myself. She had the most makeup on, though obviously within the allowed limit. Her eyes were outlined with a light eyeliner, enhancing their almond shape and green colour.

"I love your tattoos. I'd never be brave enough," she smiled as she marvelled over my arms. "Take a seat, Billie, tell us about yourself." They moved over on the bed they were sitting on, giving me enough room to sit down. I must have looked out of place in amongst the pristine white uniforms in my battered cargo pants and plain shirt.

"What do you wanna know?" I shrugged.

"You got a guy back home?" smiled Betty.

"No I do not. But I think from what I've seen, that's a good thing given that I'm here," I said, causing them to giggle.

"Anyone in particular?" Kathy asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"It's totally Speirs," Betty laughed. Her laugh was light, regal sounding.

"Oooh he is a dish," Addie laughed.

"Totally not!" I protested. "I mean, he's only completely gorgeous with literally no flaws, but maybe slightly too early to tell," I said, making the others laugh. "What about you guys?" I asked.

"Betty is totally into Doc," laughed Addie.

"I am not," she retorted, but her cheeks reddened.

"Hey, why not? He is a cutie," I teased, making her even more embarrassed.

"Ok, maybe just a little bit," she laughed. "But I'm too young for him," she said longingly.

"How old are you?" I hadn't really thought about it much, given that I thought most people here were older than me.

"18. We all are, except Kathy. She's 21," Betty replied.

"Hey, it's not all bad. I'm only 18," I shrugged.

"Really? You seem so much older," Dorothy piped up, a small smile on her face.

"I cross my heart," I said, jokingly placing my hand over my heart, making them smile. "I think the tattoos make me seem older, but I knew people I could get them off of when I was underage," I said.

"That is so cool. I don't know how you had the courage," Addie said, taking hold of one of my arms and looking at it in wonder. "Do you have any more?" she asked, looking at me like an excited child.

"I have a back piece," I nodded.

"Let's see it!" Addie squealed.

"Ok, but before I show it to you, it has no holy meaning. I don't believe in religion, although technically I'm a Catholic." I got off the bunk and turned around, lifting my shirt over my head, leaving me in my bra. I heard them all take a breathe in.

"It's amazing," Betty breathed.

"What does it mean?" Dorothy asked, getting closer. It was a male guardian angel, crouched in the middle of my back his wings arching over to protect himself. Some of the feathers of the wings had fallen, and so I had fallen feathers tattooed on my lower back. The angel had several lacerations to his body.

"When I was little, my father always called me his little angel. He was my guardian angel, although he had his troubles. It signifies the lengths my dad went to protect me, the struggles we faced and the need to recover," I said.

"That's beautiful," Addie said, gently touching it's wings. "I'm so jealous," she smiled. I put my shirt back on, returning to my seat on the bed.

"Now, I need to know more about you guys," I laughed.

* * *

We talked for what seemed like hours. Betty was from a family of three brothers, but that I already knew. They each served in different branches of the America Army, and their names were Harry, Frank and Dominic. She was the youngest of her family. Kathy was the oldest out of all of us, and an only child. Her parents didn't want her being around so many men, but she took off in the middle of the night to pursue a career as an army nurse. I admired her courage. Addie was a slight troublemaker when she was younger, in a similar way to me. She was a twin, her sister deciding to be a typist rather than get her hands dirty. She was definitely the tomboy in their relationship. Even Dorothy came out of her shell, telling me about her dog Cassidy and how she missed her so. I'd told them a bit more about myself, things I hadn't told the guys yet. They already knew where I was from, and I even told them about some of the minor crimes I'd committed. Instead of distancing themselves from me, they became more fascinated the longer I talked. Until I looked at my watch.

"Shit! I'm meant to be on parade in 2 minutes," I panicked.

"Quick, go, go," Betty said, pulling me off the bunk. "You know your way back?" she asked.

"I think so," I nodded. "See you later, girls," I waved, which they returned. I sped out the door, knowing it was a few minute walk from the nurses hut to Easy's parade ground. I ran past numerous wooden huts which all looked exactly the same, and several soldiers shouted random comments at me which I duly ignored. I ran round the corner of the medical hut, slamming straight into someone and ending up sprawled all over the floor, cutting my hands on the gravel.

 **Speirs' P.O.V**

"Fuck," Soler said as she went flying to the ground. She'd just sprinted round the corner, flying into me then head first into the dirt. I'd managed to stay on my feet, probably the fact that she weighed much less than me. "Ow, shit," she said as she sat up, picking pieces of gravel from her hands. It was then she looked up and realised who she'd run into. "Oh, shitting hell, sorry sir," she said, jumping up and saluting. As she saluted, little flecks of blood from her torn up hands flicked onto her face. She was having quite the first day.

"Soler, are you running like you're trying to win a medal for a reason?" I questioned, raising a eyebrow.

"Yes, sir. I'm, er, late for parade, sir," she stuttered, obviously not wanted to sound incompetent on her first day. She glanced at the ground, and in that moment I saw her for what she was; alone. I sighed, knowing that now she was late for parade, Sobel would chew her out. Even I wouldn't wish that upon her.

"Forget parade for tonight. I'll send a runner to inform Sobel. Come with me," I said, beginning to walk towards my office. "Soler, why are you not in your uniform yet?" I questioned, turning around. Her face registered like she'd just remembered something.

"Well, I, er, I appear to have left it in the medical hut, sir," she said, rubbing back of her neck. "I'm sorry, sir. It's just, I've never experienced anything like this before, I really am trying. I'm not a complete lost cause," she practically blurted out. As she spoke, I studied her face. She was undeniably pretty, there was no doubt about that. Her eyes once again drew a lot of attention, a small scar now noticeable above her right eyebrow. She had a pale complexion, making her hair seem even darker. It was a dark brunette colour, drawn back into a ponytail, but still coming a way down her back.

"Go collect it, then come to my office," I said, turning around and walking to Dog's hut. I made my way back to barracks, walking in to find Jones and Sterling packing their stuff away. Their eyes shot to me, and they quickly looked back down as they realised how much shame this would put them under. Only two other soldiers resided inside. "Tarly, come here," I ordered. He jumped off his bunk, scurrying over to where I was stood. "Go to Easy's parade ground and inform Lt. Sobel that Pvt. Soler will not be attending drill tonight."

"Yes, sir," he saluted, before running outside. I went into the office, sitting on the chair behind my desk. I picked up Soler's file, opening it to the first page. I hadn't had a chance to read over it yet, and decided I should probably know something before we spoke. _She's experienced way more than any 18 year old should._ I glanced over her list of crimes, none of which were major. She'd been arrested for assault numerous times, theft and criminal damage. She'd first been arrested when she was only 11 for theft. It seemed like she'd be born into it. I looked up as I heard someone enter the hut, seeing it was her. I put the file down, getting up to show her in. As she came forward, Jones and Sterling were exiting the hut, and although they didn't touch her, they made a remark which seemed to hit a raw nerve.

"Maybe she just had a shitty father and a whore mother," Jones sneered almost in her face. For some reason, I felt a hatred towards him. I felt protective over her. But before I could even move, she spoke up.

"What the fuck did you just say?" she asked, getting up in his face. _Shit._

"I said, that your dad was probably a good for nothing pile of-" she cut him off, throwing down her clothes and punching him with a pretty swift right hook. He went down quickly, much like he had done to her. I rushed out, more to make sure he didn't retaliate than to reprimand her.

"You glad you're leaving, Jones, because if you ever said anything about my family ever again, I promise you, you wouldn't have a tongue to use in the near future," she snapped. Clearly her family was a touchy issue. I caught myself smirking, seeing a side to her that made her even more unique. A fiery, wild side.

"Jones, you've caused enough trouble," I warned in a low, unwavering voice. Sterling had already left, and Jones got to his feet, wiping the blood from his dripping, probably broke, nose. "Soler, office," I said, nodding my head towards the door. She gave me a sideways kind of smile, something I found somewhat attractive. I double checked myself, shaking the thought that I found Billie Soler a pretty incredible person.

 **Billie's P.O.V**

As he took me into his office, I was sure I was going to be in a lot of trouble. I'd just outright punched a man in the face, in front of Lt. Speirs. I mean that very same guy had done the same to me and now he was out of the Airborne. I sat down on the chair when he motioned, having picked up the uniforms I'd thrown on the floor before I'd entered the office.

"Impressive work, Soler," he said, making me second guess what I was hearing. "I never knew you had it in you," he almost smiled.

"It's just that he kind of hit a nerve, sir," I shrugged.

"I figured that much. Now, no one else needs to know about this, ok?" he asked, as I nodded. I wasn't sure why he was protecting me, but got distracted when he took off his side cap. A strand of his brown hair hung slightly lower than the rest, crossing over his forehead, and I have never seen a sight so beautiful. He was in all meanings perfection. And I never felt this way about guys, not even the ones I'd known for years, the men I'd grown up with. For a moment, our eyes connected, neither of us looking away, but I quickly looked at the desk, feeling my cheeks redden slightly. "So, I've been told to ask you questions about your day, what you've done, etc. You want to tell me anything?" he asked, slightly raising one of his eyebrows. "And while you do that, let me take a look at your hands. The nurses are off duty and Roe is on parade," he said, pointing to my scraped up, gravel cut hands.

"I'm sure they'll be ok, sir," I said, causing him to sigh.

"Soler, just let me see your hands. I don't want you catching an infection on my watch," he said, holding out his own hand. I lifted my hands up to the desk, and he began searching in one of the desk drawers, pulling out a first aid kit. "So, what happened today. Anything I should know about?" he asked, looking for something in the bag.

"I just got to know some of the nurses, and met a few men from Easy Company," I answered as he motioned for me to put my hands on the desk.

"Any other issues?" he asked, glancing up to look at me as I shook my head. The comment Jones made on his way out had really put me down, my family being one of the most important things to me. And even though I talk about their deaths with a plain expression, it was only because if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to talk about them at all. His eyes lingered on my face for a moment longer, before he took one of my hands in his own. His touch was warmer than I thought it'd be, his hands slightly calloused. He had a surprisingly light touch as he cleaned my hands with antiseptic, before applying a white strip to one particularly bad cut on my right hand. "How's your cheek?" he asked, motioning to the few stitches on my face, no doubt leaving a scar.

"It's kinda sore, but I've had worse," I half smiled with a small shrug. His expression remained unchanged, and I felt like I was being drawn into his eyes. Speirs raised a small smile, and by god did it look attractive.

"From today, I can't bail you out anymore, Soler," he said, packing away the medical supplies.

"Yes, sir," I said, looking at the ground.

"You do that a lot," he stated, and a look of confusion crossed my face. "The looking down," he said, raising an eyebrow. _How does he notice these things?_ Not a lot got past him. I'd done it for a long time now, more of a nervous reaction than anything.

"It's a habit I've acquired over time. I'm just used to having to keep my head down, sir," I shrugged, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Not here you shouldn't have to, Soler. Now, get back to your barracks, and for god's sake, no more trouble," he sighed, once again raising an eyebrow, and I couldn't help but just stare at his inhumanly good looking face, before shaking my head and snapping out of my stupid daze.

"Yes, sir," I said, standing up and saluting him, which he returned before I turned towards the door. "And thank you, sir, for not telling anyone about Jones," I smiled turning around. He gave me a small nod, and I left the hut, smacking straight into Toye.

"You goin' somewhere, Billie?" he laughed, putting a hand on my arm to steady me.

"Maybe I'll get right before long," I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. "Aren't you meant to be on parade?" I asked as we began to walk back towards Easy's barracks. He shook his head, lighting up two cigarettes and handing me one. "Cheers."

"Parade finished about ten minutes ago. Sobel weren't exactly pleased when that runner came, giving you an excuse not to be there. Why didn't you show?" he asked looking at me with those intriguing eyes.

"I kinda had a slight accident," I shrugged, showing him my fucked up hands.

"Jesus, girl, your gonna end up patching yourself up more than the men," he laughed. "Doc told us you're gonna be a medic with us, and about the fight," he said, raising an eyebrow and exhaling a plume of smoke.

"Yeah, I guess I'm gonna have to put up with shit like that. Rumours spread fast," I said, exhaling smoke out my nose.

"Not with us Easy men around, Billie," he said, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Oh, that reminds me, I got you something at cards earlier," he said as he felt around in his pockets. "Those guys at Able are pretty easy to goose," he smiled, pulling out a metal lighter. "Brand new Zippo," he smiled, raising his eyebrows. He handed me the gold lighter, silver lining around the outside.

"Holy crap, thanks!" I smiled, turning it around in my hands, lighting the wick and watching the flame dance rhythmically before shutting the lid. "I owe you," I smiled.

"Course you don't, think of it a a welcome present," he shrugged.

* * *

The next day, I got up earlier than the men, being as quiet as I could, so I could make my way to the shower and change when no one else was around. I hadn't thought too much about it until that moment; hopefully it wouldn't be too much of a problem. I gathered up my new uniform, it's starchiness and drab appearance not really fazing me too much. I'd never been one to follow the more feminine fashions, much to the dismay of my mother. I snuck out the door, careful not to wake any of the men, lighting a cigarette as I made my way to the shower block. For the nurses, they could shower when all the men were training, seeing as they weren't technically soldiers, but I didn't have that luxury. Besides, when I wasn't training, I'd be learning all my medical knowledge. I flicked the end of my cigarette away, watching as the embers nestled themselves into the grass, before pushing open the door gingerly. Luckily no one else was occupying any of the cubicles, so I made my way down to the furthest corner block I could find. I put my clothes on the small wooden shelf to the right of me, the metal walls of the shower encasing me on 3 sides. Checking one final time for anyone hanging around, I took off my clothes, unlacing my boots, and pulling my shirt over my head. For a couple of seconds I stood there just in underwear, my black knickers and bra contrasting heavily against my pale skin. I sighed, before undoing my bra, and wiggling my pants down over my hips. I turned the water on, the initial shock of cold making me gasp as it hit my skin, working its way into my muscles. After a few seconds it began to warm up, though not by much, but I let the water run over my body, its purity cleansing my slightly dirtied skin. As I washed, I looked down at myself. It had been a while since I'd really studied my body, the pain and suffering I'd managed to put it through during my short life. My legs held several tattoos; a tribal wolf, a garter design on my right thigh, several phrases from books, among others that each held a distinct memory. My arms were both covered with intricately designed sleeves, smaller patterns weaving their way through the external visuals of the design. But my favourite will always be the one I can't see; the guardian angel adorning my back, it's protectiveness always present. I smiled to myself, relieving some of the memories in my head - the time me and my brother first got in trouble when we were younger for stealing chocolate, my first kiss with the most infamous guy on our block, the times when we'd actually be able to sit as a family at dinner. As they played out, I realised how alone I was here. Sure, I had Betty and the girls, and I had the men, but no one I could fully trust, no one I could call family. I closed my eyes, letting out a sigh as I rested my head on the metal panel behind me. After a few seconds, I turned my shower off, the final droplets of water escaping the shower head, dripping onto the floor, rippling the small puddles, like a stone across a lake. I wrapped the white towel around me, it's scratchy fabric offering a sense of security. I pulled on a new pair of knickers and a new bra, both the same black as before, and wrapped my hair in the towel, rubbing it to dry it. The time was no doubt near to the time the men would be getting up, so I had to hurry. I yanked up my trousers, fastening the button at the waist, and threw on my under shirt, but as I did that, I managed to rip the stitches from my face, getting them caught up in the seam of the collar.

"Fuck," I swore, cringing at the sudden pain. I reached my hand up to my cheek, feeling the blood dripping and the pulled stitches hanging from my flesh. "Jesus christ, maybe I'll pull myself together at some point," I murmured, getting fed up with how incompetent I was beginning to look. I pulled on my top shirt, buttoning up the front. All in all, it wasn't too bad of a uniform, I'd been wearing these types of clothes for a long time. I relaced up my boots, swearing when some of the blood trickled into my eye from where I was leaning down, creating a searing sense across my right eye. I blinked rapidly, the pain fading, but my eye was no doubt tearing up and bloodshot. I grabbed my old clothes from the floor, throwing them in the pile by the entrance. As I went to open the door, it swung inwards, smacking me straight in the face, and I once again tumbled ungracefully to the floor.

 **Speirs' P.O.V**

I happened to be walking past the shower block when I heard two of the men from Easy company swearing.

"Oh, shit, Billie, I am so sorry," the smaller one exclaimed, reaching down. I stopped, glancing in, to see him pulling Soler back to her feet, her nose streaming blood. Her face also looked a little worse for wear, dried blood caking her cheek.

"It's fine, Perconte. My fault for not paying attention, I guess," she shrugged, smiling and then wincing in pain.

"You should probably get that checked out," the taller one said, less sincerity in his voice than in Perconte's.

"Probably, but I need to be back in time for the morning parade, Liebgott," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Eh, suit yourself," he said, walking past her and Perconte into the showers.

"Sorry about Joe," the little, tanned Italian spoke. "He sometimes takes a while to adjust to people. Now, lemme take you over to medical, that way we'll both be in shit, and not just you," he laughed. I walked up behind him, Soler only seeing me at the last second.

"I'll handle it, Pvt," I directed at Perconte, who immediately whipped his hand up into a salute.

"Yes, sir," he said, standing up straight, before turning and giving Soler a smile as he walked into the shower block. I looked at her, her hair damp from showering, her skin clean, except for the parts now covered in blood.

"At least it wasn't an aggressively inflicted wound," I said, raising an eyebrow as she fell in step beside me. "They weren't, were they?" I quickly asked, that sense of protectiveness finding it's way back into my thoughts. She shook her head.

"No, sir. I somehow managed to get my shirt caught on the stitches, and the guys kinda opened the door on my face," she said, wiping blood that had dripped down onto her lips.

"I saw," I said, lighting up a cigarette, seeing her do the same, her nose still dripping every now and then. The dark crimson colour stained her pristine skin, her lips becoming a deep shade of red. The stitching was hanging out, and I could see where the wound had reopened. It would almost definitely leave some kind of scar. "When are you going to stop running into trouble, Soler?" I asked, exhaling a plume of smoke.

"Soon," she shrugged. She somehow made the plain uniform look somewhat wearable, and now looked much more part of the operation. She looked over at me, giving me a small smile, her eyes still remaining that icy tone that was so desirable for some reason. I shook the thoughts from my head, once again questioning why they were there. She exhaled a plume of smoke, before flicking away the end of her cigarette.

"Right, Soler, once you've been stitched up - again - report to me. Luckily, today's plan was that you were to come straight to me instead of being on Sobel's parade," I said, giving her a nod as I walked off, glancing round as she stepped into the hut. As I returned to my office, I thought about how pretty she actually was. I never really paid much mind to how people looked, but there was something about her. She held an air of mystery, but also one of danger. It seemed almost as if she was holding back from her true self. She acted almost shyly, but every now and then, her true persona would push through, in the manner of a cheeky smile, or a hot headed outburst. I think she was trying to keep her head down, and to be fair, the times she'd appeared on my radar over the past day and this morning weren't her fault. Well, maybe running into me was her fault. But Sobel stamping her hand; being beaten up; doors being smashed in her face? It almost made me feel sorry for her.

* * *

Ten minutes later, she'd been stitched up and was sitting in my office on the chair in front of my desk. She glanced around, looking from wall to wall, scanning her eyes over paperwork and frames that adorned the walls. I watched her as she looked nonchalantly around the room, lightly tapping her fingers on the arms of the chair.

"So, Soler. Today is the last day of light duty. Tomorrow, you will be thrown in with all of Easy company, training as they do, same regimes as they have, and you'll be undertaking the start of your medical training. The only difference is you will shower at a different time, for obvious reasons that I don't think I need to explain," I said, raising an eyebrow, as she smiled. "Today, you'll spend the day with me. I'll be leading my company for several exercises, of which you'll observe on Sink's orders. You have a meeting with Sink this afternoon, then it's back in here for tonight's debrief. Then you will be assisting me with the night watch post until 0100 hours tomorrow morning," I finished. The whole day she would be literally walking in my footsteps, and thought which would intimidate plenty of the men on camp. But she seemed to take it in her stride.

"Yes, sir," she said, nodding slightly.

"Any questions before the day begins?" I asked, giving her a final chance to voice any concerns. And with her, I felt like I'd actually listen to them.

"What time is lunch?" she said, a half smile reaching it's way around her face. I almost smiled at that one.

* * *

 **Billie's P.O.V**

I was standing at ease at the edge of Dog Company, glancing over at the men. I didn't really know any of them, and didn't plan massively on socialising with them. They weren't my company. A few of them would glare over when they were out of Speirs' eyeline, but some would offer a nod of, I don't know, sympathy? The morning parade seemed to go on for hours, but finally, Speirs gave them duties to perform and a time of 1300 hours to report back to parade. He looked real good standing up the front of the line, giving orders and just being a complete hottie. And he didn't even realise. Several times I caught myself just staring, having to shake my head and refocus my eyes.

"Dog Company, to your duties, fall out," he ordered, and the men turned on their heels, scattering in an orderly fashion to where they were supposed to be. He came over to me, flicking a cigarette out from his pocket, and offering me one. I shook my head, taking one from my own pack, and using the lighter Joe had got for me to light it, flicking the lid down and turning it in my hand a few times. "Nice metal," Speirs remarked as he began walking. I exhaled a plume of smoke, and as we walked to wherever it was we were going, a familiar figure approached us.

"Pvt. Soler, why is it you have managed to avoid any responsibility since you've been here," Sobel said as he came to a halt in front of us, hatred radiating from his every fibre.

"She has been assigned to me for the first couple of days, Lt," Speirs replied, his voice icy. Sobel glared at him, before staring back at me. Suddenly, he whipped his hand out, grabbing my chin.

"Believe you me, girl, none of this will happen in my company, or god help me," he warned, as I wrenching my head out of his grip. He angered me to my core, but what could I do?

"Lt, I'd think twice before handling a recruit like that again, especially one so new," Speirs said, his voice dangerously low. It was like he was protecting me, a feeling I thoroughly enjoyed.

"She isn't worth anything. Her family are no doubt better off dead or missing," he remarked, and in that moment I could have ripped his lungs out of his chest.

"With all due respect, sir," I spat with venom, "my family are absolutely nothing to do with you." I grit my teeth, for I knew that if I let my mouth run, I'd be for it. I felt Speirs tense beside me, none of us liking where this was going.

"Soler, you are a marked soldier. I will break you," he threatened lowly, before giving Speirs one final look and storming off. I spat on the floor, breathing heavily and eyeing his retreating form with a hatred I rarely ever showed, flexing my knuckles.

"It's no use. You'll only get kicked out, or worse. I hate the man as much as the next person, but any issues, come to me with them, don't settle them yourself," Speirs said, in an unusually understanding tone. "How's your face?" he asked, referring to where Sobel gripped me.

"It hurts," I admitted. He looked at my cheek, checking it over.

"It'll bruise," he said, glancing into my eyes. Neither of us broke away, his dark eyes seeming to explore my soul. He broke the contact, glancing down at his watch. "Everyone will get to the canteen for 1200 hours, meaning we have 2 hours for you to have a proper induction of the site. The men had theirs when they enrolled. Let's go, Soler," he signalled.

* * *

We spent almost the whole two hours slowly milling around the camp, and it was much larger than I initially believed it to be.

"And that is the mountain Sobel will have you running up at every opportunity," Speirs said as he came to the end of the induction. Beyond the tree line lay a huge hill, it's steepness apparent from even this far.

"How the fuck do I do that?" I said accidentally, meaning for it to be in my head. "Oh, shit, sorry." I glanced at him, shrugging.

"Around me, it's fine, Soler. But around Sobel? Goddamn, he'd rip your heart out," he said, looking ta me with a half smile. _Jesus, that's hot._ "Not that I'd let him," he added, lighting up a cigarette and offering me one.

"Thanks," I smiled, taking the cigarette, which he lit, exhaling a plume of smoke. _Why does he keep protecting me? I mean, I don't mind, but, he's the hottest man I've ever seen, and I'm, well, I'm just me._ I noticed a large amount of men headed for the cafeteria, something that made Speirs check his watch.

"Let's get going," he said, nodding his head towards the food hall. "So, you think you're gonna be ok here?" he asked, a sincerity in his voice I hadn't heard before.

"I guess I'll have to be. I'm kinda used to having to adapt quickly," I said, smiling at him. He raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his face.

"I guess you are." We walked in silence to the cafeteria, though it wasn't awkward. "Go sit with Easy, you need to get to know them," he said, throwing the end of his cigarette away.

"Yes, sir," I said, more formal now we were nearer to the men. I turned to walk inside, but he called me back.

"Oh, and Billie," he started "try to keep out of trouble," he smirked, his eyes lighting up, causing me to smile.

"When do I ever," I said, raising my eyebrows. I finally went inside the cafeteria when a thought struck me. _He just called me Billie. Any one of the men could have overheard._


End file.
